


The Bus Stop

by tomanonuniverse



Series: Fate Or Destiny Or Something Stupid Like That [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, I don't know what to tag this, I just wanted to write something Moira related, I mean Jack and Gabriel are married here but the shit isn't even about them so, I'm SO GAY for Moira, It's supposed to be like... the first part of a series? i guess??, Like............FUCK, Maybe - Freeform, Moira and dva are not romantic here fyi, fvucking gey, only tagged as teen and up being Moira is complex and also she briefly strips sdhdiuklfddks pffft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 18:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14314185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomanonuniverse/pseuds/tomanonuniverse
Summary: Hana felt her shoulders tense as she heard the undeniable sound of a motorcycle as it, much to her dismay, began to slow down and stop right in front of her.





	The Bus Stop

Hana felt her shoulders tense as she heard the undeniable sound of a motorcycle as it, much to her dismay, began to slow down and stop right in front of her.

She truly hadn’t meant to stay out this long. She’d told Brigitte that she didn’t need a ride home, that she’d take the bus, yet here she was, out an entire hour past midnight, sitting at the bus stop and pretending to busy herself with her (dead) phone. She’d considered it a miracle that no one had happened to pass by to harass her, but it seems her luck had just run out.

“What are you doing out here all on your own at this hour?”

 _“_ _미안_ _,_ _나는_ _영어_ _—”_ She paused midway, her eyes meeting a pair of heterochronic ones.

“Oh,” she said, “it’s you.”

Moira rose an eyebrow. “It is.” The ginger haired woman confirmed, voice deadpan as ever. She took note of the fact that Hana’s shoulders remained tense anyway. She couldn’t blame her. After all, it must be awkward for her to talk with someone who _could_ have resulted in her only having one parent, had she and Gabriel remained together.

Hana broke eye contact to dispel the thought, shaking her head and pretending that Moira wasn’t watching her every move. “I’m waiting for the bus,” she answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “why else would someone be at the bus stop?” Moira glanced at the bench, then back at her, expression completely neutral.

“I see,” she responded, if only slightly amused, and Hana felt annoyance tug at her. How did her dad ever date this one again? “Does your father know you’re out here at this hour?” Hana’s eye twitched. Was she implying that she snuck out? She’s _nineteen,_ not some sixteen-year-old kid! “ _Yes_ ,” she hissed, “ _both_ of them do.”

Instead of getting the reaction she wanted, a bit of shame or so, Moira only smirked, ticking her off more. “Well,” she started, “I am sure they are both very worried about you. Would you like a ride home?” Hana’s eyebrows shot upwards at the offer. From the stories her father told her, Moira was… not the nicest out there. So not only is this unexpected, but also very suspicious.

“I’d rather get in a car with a complete stranger, to be honest.” Moira chuckled. “You will freeze to death out here, you know.” As if on que, a strong gush of wind suddenly swooped down and gave the girl goosebumps. Hana placed her hands on her naked arms, cursing herself for leaving her jacket at her Brigitte’s.

Moira only rose an eyebrow at the scene, as if to tell her _“I told you so,”_ to which Hana narrowed her eyes at. “Fine,” she gave in, “but that doesn’t make us friends or anything,” she felt the need to add as she stood up, feeling her blood running cold with each step she took, it having nothing to do with the weather.

“I never implied as such,” Moira said, extending her arms to give her the helmet she’d been holding throughout their conversation. Hana rose and eyebrow as she took it. “What about you?” She asked, her voice muffled as she put it on. “I do not need it,” the woman said, shrugging off her leather jacket and standing around in just a tank top, turning around, and once again extending her arm towards Hana.

This time, the brunette only stared in confusion. “It will get cold when we move faster than the wind itself,” she explained. Hana flattened her lips but took the jacket anyway, slipping it on. She felt herself struggle slightly, _did Moira even have meat on her bones how on earth was this supposed to fit_ , but she got it on anyway.

She observed the ride. The motorcycle was very neat and polished, a mixture of purple and yellow, which her dad mentioned were once his favorite colors too. She and Brigitte would have probably been freaking out over every piece of this amazing vehicle of art, had it not belonged to _her._ She shook her head again, and pretended Moira wasn’t looking at her again, then swung her legs over and sat behind her. “We better not be going that fast. I’ll kill you.”

This time, the woman let out a short laugh, voice smoothly interrupting the silent winds. Hana did not see what was funny. She was serious. “Such a bold child,” she mused, placing her hands on the bars of the motorcycle and revving it to life. Hana kept her hands behind her, not feeling like wrapping her arms around this woman that sounded kind of nuts.

“ _Not a child_ ,” she barely had the chance to mumble, before she was suddenly almost thrown off of the motorcycle with the sudden speed. She let out a quite embarrassing high-pitched yelp of surprise, throwing her arms around Moira to keep herself from flying away. She could practically _feel_ the older female smirking.

But she wasn’t. Moira’s face remained devoid of emotion, or at least, any _decipherable_ emotion. She set her eyes on the road like any good driver, despite the streets being as empty as her expression. Hana briefly wondered if the woman would interrogate her, before she suddenly sat straighter. “Take a left right here!” She yelled over the sound of the bike.

“You do not need to guide me. I know where you live.” Hana swallowed drily. _“That’s not a creepy thing to say at all,”_ she whispered through gritted teeth, eyeing the building they passed for any signs of unfamiliar places. It’s not that she thought Moira would kidnap her. She just couldn’t help but feel… off, when around her.

She knows she and her father aren’t on bad terms, but that’s the thing, they aren’t really on _any_ terms.  They’d been dating when neither were out, both in complete denial about their homosexuality. When they’d broken up, Moira had just… walked out of Gabriel’s life, never to seen or heard of again. That is, until she somehow, by fate or destiny or something _stupid_ like that, ended up becoming neighbors with his close friend Angela, who had always complained about a, quote, _“drunk neighbor that blasted classical music at 3 AM in the morning.”_

It had confused Gabriel; he knew Moira wasn’t a fan of drinking. But when he’d tried to visit, she’d all but let him in easy. He persisted, demanding to know how she was, as if they were friends. Once she finally actually allowed him into her house, Gabriel never went back. Hana wondered what happened. She wondered what he’d think when _Moira_ shows up at _his_ doorstep, with his daughter in tow no less, this time around.

When she glanced at her face, they both felt her freeze, once again having nothing to do with the weather. A blue eye stared down at her from the side of Moira’s face, scrutinizing her every movement. Hana could not tear her own eyes away, wondering if Moira could see how wide they were beneath the helmet she wore.

She blinked, and just like that, the iris was gone, instead focusing on the road. Hana gulped, and decided that this was too awkward. “So, what’re _you_ doing out so late?!” She shouted, attempting to strike up conversation. “You needn’t yell. I can hear you just fine.” Hana’s face heated. “It is nothing that concerns you. Besides, you never answered.”

Hana’s face scrunched in frustration as she eyes the goose-bumped pale arms. She shrugged and decided to answer. “I’m just here for the weekend,” she explained, much quieter this time, “I was just visiting the fam, and my girlfriend since she studies here, then I’m going back, college and all that.” Moira hummed in acknowledgement, letting the girl know she heard her.

They fell back into silence, though it was less awkward and more… shared. It wasn’t necessarily _comfortable_ , but it wasn’t _uncomfortable_ either. Hana looked at Moira’s back and felt herself grimace when she realized she could see the outline of her spine. She wasn’t sure if it was healthy to be this thin, or this pale, but she was sure it wasn’t her business.

Ever so abruptly, thunder boomed overhead, causing Hana to jump and look at the sky. She hadn’t even noticed the sudden grey clouds, considering it was night time, and slowly but surely, rain began to pour on top of them. Hana tightened her grip around the disappearing waist and glanced at the wheels, worried about driving in the rain.

She didn’t voice her concerns, but she suddenly found them going much slower than they had been. It seems Moira isn’t reckless. What she was, however, was _soaked._ The helmet and the leather jacket kept Hana’s hair and torso from the rain, but her jeans had turned a darker shade of blue. Moira, on the other hand, was soaked to the protruding bone, orange hair slicked to her head.

“Do you want your jacket back?” Hana question, but Moira only shook her head without glancing at her. “Too late.” She had a point. Hana sighed, almost gratefully, and hoped she didn’t hear her. It was too cold anyway. She rested her head on Moira’s back and watched the world whizz past them. With the soft sounds of the rain hitting the concrete and the slight bumps in the road, Hana found her eyelids growing heavy, and despite her best efforts, she fell asleep.

-…-

“Child. Wake up. We have arrived.”

 _“Not a child,”_ Hana mumbled, raising her hand to cover her mouth as she yawned, completely forgetting that she had a helmet on. She removed it and rubbed at her eyes, stretching, not quite ready to be awake yet. Memories came flooding back to her as she sat up, before her eyes snapped open, then relaxed as she saw the familiar building that was her home.

She could briefly see one of her dads pacing behind the blinds at the front window, and she was willing to bet ten dollars it was Jack. She swung her legs over and put her sneakers on the ground, shivering at her wet shoes and socks meeting smalls ponds of water that hadn’t yet been drained. At least it had stopped raining.

She took two steps then turned, not hearing Moira behind her. The woman sat on her motorcycle and stared back. “Are you coming?” Asked the drowsy girl, rubbing her eyes again, helmet in her other hand. Moira only shook her head. Hana shrugged and walked towards her house, shoulders sagging with relief at the thought of _finally_ being home.

She hadn’t even rung the doorbell before the door flew open. “Hana, what the _hell!_ ” Well, someone owed her ten bucks, because her old man Jack stood right there, worry evident all over his creased forehead, Gabriel right behind him, glaring at her. He reached out and touched her face and hair, and she let him. How else would her blind father be able to tell if she were alright?

“We were worried _sick!_ You weren’t answering our texts or calls! And Brigitte said you’d left her place _hours_ ago! When it started raining, we almost called the cops to have a search party, and Jesse was on the brink of going out look for you and you _know_ your brother would’ve called every damn person he knew and weirdly enough Gabriel was the one stopping either of us from going out to find you and—” Suddenly, Jack stopped.

He squeezed her shoulder, confused by the unfamiliar material. She was not wearing leather when she left earlier. “Hana, what’s this?” He asked in the most _dad_ way possible, she couldn’t help the snicker that came bubbling out of her. Gabriel huffed disapprovingly, not finding it funny. “What happened, Hana?” He questioned, no accusation in his voice.

“The bus took literally _forever_ to show up, so she gave me a ride,” she explained, pointing behind her with her thumb. Gabriel leaned to the side to look at who she was pointing at. “She who? Brigitte?” Jack asked, at the same moment that Gabriel said, “I don’t see anyone.”

Hana whirled around to see that the spot where Moira once was empty. How on _earth_ had she not heard her leave? “Woah, weird,” she mumbled, turning around to her parents again. “Who gave you a ride, kid?” Jack asked impatiently. “Not Brigitte. Moira.”

The two men paused, Gabriel’s breath audibly hitching. _“Moira?”_ He repeated incredulously. “Yeah! And she was… nice. She gave me her jacket so I don’t die of hypothermia. She didn’t even take it back. Or her helmet. _When did she even leave?”_ The last question was mostly to herself, wondering how the woman managed to sneak away so quietly.

Jack glanced at Gabriel, not that he’d see his face anyway, before turning his head back to his daughter. “Well. Remind us to thank her later. For now, can you please get inside and take a hot bath or something so we can call Jesse and let him know not to wake up his entire neighborhood?” Hana snorted.

“Sounds good.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I literally only wanted to write something Moira related? I just? Moira's so cool? I'm still not sure what this is but when am I ever sure about anything, pffft.
> 
> Also Hana was in the middle of saying "sorry, I can't speak English," which I translated using Google Translate, pffft.


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